Sunday, April 29, 2012

I chose to highlight Robert Louis Stevenson today for National Poetry month. I knew he had written Treasure Island and Kidnapped but didn't know he was a poet until I found this poem. I wanted to post a poem about books and reading for my last Poem in my Post, because it is something I love to do.

I hope you enjoyed this month of poetry.

THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter's camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.